


Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair

by mysticanni



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Commune, Drum Circle, Falling In Love, Flower Crowns, Hair Braiding, Hippies, Luxury, M/M, Opulence, Sort Of, flowers in hair, free love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticanni/pseuds/mysticanni
Summary: Freddie is thinking about leaving the commune that isn't really a commune.But then Roger arrives and he decides to stay a little longer.
Relationships: Chris "Crystal" Taylor/Roger Taylor, Dominique Beyrand/Chris "Crystal" Taylor/Roger Taylor, Freddie Mercury/Roger Taylor, Jim Beach/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Brian May
Comments: 18
Kudos: 19
Collections: The Froger Week 2020





	Be Sure To Wear Some Flowers In Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

> For the 1960s hippies prompt

Freddie had drifted to the commune with Mary who drifted back out again after a few weeks with an accountant called Clive who had decided this ‘hippy mumbo jumbo’ was not for him – although in reality there was nothing particularly communal or hippy-ish about the “commune” in Freddie’s opinion. Freddie wished Mary had mentioned she was leaving – he’d arrived in her car so was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no transport. 

Well, he was stranded in the middle of the English countryside to be more precise. And he was stuck in a stately home with large gardens and a swimming-pool and lake. After a rainy start to July the weather was now sunny and warm and lazing by the pool or reading under a shady tree was not exactly a hardship. But Freddie still felt slightly trapped. He liked to have an escape route.

He thought if he was more of a hippy himself he would be spending his days working out why he felt that way. Instead, he was simply idling away the time.

The mansion had been recently inherited by Sebastian whose surname Freddie had never heard. It was the sort of building you could easily get lost in – wandering down dark corridors occasionally opening doors to find sombre wood panelled rooms or sunny pastel coloured havens. 

Sebastian had inherited staff with the house – a housekeeper, cook, a few maids, some gardeners and the butler, Mr Beach. Freddie was fairly certain that this level of luxury was unusual – unheard of - for a commune and Sebastian seemed much more materialistic than the average hippy.

Some earnest people had engaged Freddie on this topic down by the pool. “Seb seems kinda phoney, man, y’know?” one of the people who had stayed for a few days had said. Some people stayed for a few days before moving on. Freddie thought of them as the True Believers. He had started to divide Sebastian’s constant stream of guests into the truly non-materialistic and those who were hangers-on. Freddie knew that he was a hanger-on himself. Freddie sometimes felt bad that he had been effectively sponging off Sebastian for the best part of a month.

Crystal, who had arrived with a model who had known Sebastian’s sister at school, said that personally he couldn’t afford to have morals and if Sebastian was daft enough to allow them all to live rent free in his fabulous house then Crystal was just going to relax and enjoy it while it lasted. The model had jetted off to a Greek island with Sebastian’s sister leaving Crystal lazing by the pool and growing a beard. “I think I was her bit of rough,” Crystal had told Freddie cheerfully. 

Crystal’s real name was Chris Taylor but he said no one had ever called him that. Freddie thought his nickname was very fitting for someone hanging out in a supposed commune. Crystal had a theory that, “Sebastian reckons women will be attracted by the idea of a commune. And there might be something in that,” he had noted thoughtfully, his gaze drifting towards Chrissie rubbing sun tan lotion into Dominique’s back, both of them in bikinis by the pool. “But Sebastian doesn’t seem to realise that they’re not interested in him once they find out he has the sensitivity of a brick and that he’s a self-centred spoilt brat,” he concluded.

Chrissie and Dominique were friends who had arrived with a school friend of Sebastian’s. Freddie could no longer recall his name. He had left after a few days for a friend’s birthday party in London and had never returned. Chrissie and Dominique had made friends with Veronica, who had arrived as part of a group, most of whom had now moved on apart from Ratty – Freddie wasn’t sure of his real name – Freddie suspected Ratty had also been the ‘bit of rough’ of one of the rich women in the group.

“Who did you know?” he had asked Veronica one day as they strolled by the lake. 

She had laughed. “I know one of the maids – Beth – and she told me I could just wander in – that it was an open house – and no one would bat an eyelid. And she was right! By complete coincidence I arrived at the same time as a group of friends of Sebastian’s and everyone thought I was one of them.”

Freddie laughed too. “I do feel a like a fraud for being here,” he confessed. 

Echoing Crystal, Veronica had replied, “Oh, I intend to enjoy every moment before Sebastian comes to his senses and kicks us all out!”

*

Freddie was in the breakfast room – he had never stayed anywhere before that had a breakfast room as well as a separate dining room – when he heard the throaty rattle of a car crunching up the gravel drive-way. Curious, he took his cup of coffee to the window and peered out.

A battered looking mini stopped in front of the house and disgorged three men. Freddie registered two things – these people had transport – of a sort – and one of them was apparently an angel. 

The window was slightly ajar – it was already warm. Freddie heard Mr Beach greeting the men, “Mr Deacon, how lovely to see you again.”

“Hi, Mr Beach, this is Roger and this is Brian,” the man Mr Beach had addressed as Mr Deacon said.

Roger was the angel and Brian was the tall man with the abundance of dark curly hair. Freddie returned to the table, afraid they would see him spying on them. 

After breakfast, he wandered down to the pool and found the new arrivals there with Sebastian. “Freddie,” Sebastian greeted him, “this is my cousin John and his friends Roger and Brian.”

They all murmured they were pleased to meet each other. Freddie tried not to stare at Roger but was not sure he was entirely successful. Roger’s long blond hair was loose and floated around his pale bare shoulders. He was only wearing a pair of white swimming shorts.

Freddie sat down on a sun lounger. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked Sebastian.

“The ladies and Ratty are playing tennis,” Sebastian replied. “I’m not sure where Crystal is.”

Freddie watched as Brian slipped into the pool. “This is wonderful,” Brian beamed, “thank you so much for letting us stay.”

“Oh, everyone’s welcome,” Sebastian drawled. 

*

Freddie lay in the sun and listened as Brian told Sebastian how he could farm his land instead of growing pretty flowers. Sebastian drawled that he had a tenant farmer who took care of that kind of thing. This prompted a series of questions from Brian about farming methods. 

John snorted. “Seb doesn’t have a clue, Bri,” he said, “As long as there is food on the table he doesn’t care how it got there, isn’t that right, cousin?” 

“You wound me,” Sebastian drawled. 

Brian offered to help on the farm. John and Roger both looked slightly horrified. Even Brian looked slightly relieved when Sebastian assured them that would not be necessary.

*

Freddie wondered what Sebastian’s ancestors would have made of the motley collection of drifters assembled around the polished dining table that evening. It still seemed incongruous to be waited on and served a meal having arrived at the house expecting to be sharing chores in a communal living situation. Not that Freddie had particularly relished the idea of joining in. But still. 

Sebastian was telling Brian that their food had all come from his farm. “All property is theft,” Crystal, who was sitting beside Freddie, murmured although his voice was not loud enough to allow Sebastian to hear him. 

The lovely Roger was on Crystal’s other side and they were soon chatting animatedly having discovered a shared love of drumming. Roger was enthusiastically telling Crystal about a drum circle on a beach in Cornwall under a black velvet star filled night sky.

“A drum circle?” Freddie heard himself ask. 

Roger beamed at him. “It was so beautiful,” he breathed. “Everyone sat in a circle with their drum...”

“The circle represents equality,” Brian cut in to inform them, “There is no beginning or end – no head or tail.” He sighed. “The stars were amazing that night.”

“The stars were lovely,” Roger agreed. “Bri is an astrophysicist,” he said, “he’s very clever.”

Freddie nodded impatiently. Brian may well be very clever but Roger was extremely cute. “So the circle represents equality?” he prompted Roger.

“Yes!” Roger’s blue eyes shone, “Everyone’s rhythms combined,” he told Freddie. 

John snorted. “They really didn’t, Rog,” he shook his head. 

“They did,” Roger insisted, “It felt right. Everyone was as one – there was a real feeling of unity.”

“Everyone was beautifully intoxicated,” John muttered. 

Roger grinned at him. “You enjoyed it,” he stated. 

John smiled too. “Yeah, I did,” he agreed, “It was a good night.” 

*

Roger was not sure where he was for a moment when he awakened. His head was resting on someone’s chest. He propped himself up on one elbow and realised he was squashed against Mr Beach the butler. Miami, he remembered, which was apparently what Freddie had decided he should be called.

Miami opened one eye. “Good morning,” he said sleepily. 

“Good morning,” Roger replied cheerfully. He glanced around the room which was smaller and much plainer than the family areas of the house. 

“I’ll have to get up,” Miami told him. “But feel free to stay here for as long as you like.”

Roger gave him a little kiss. “I’ll get up too,” he decided. 

As he was scrambling into his clothes, Mr Beach said, “You know, I think Freddie likes you.”

“Oh,” Roger said, unsure what to say. “He’s lovely,” he added, which seemed an inadequate way to describe Freddie. 

“I think he might be too shy to make a move,” Mr Beach told him. 

*

John surveyed him over the rim of his coffee cup. “Whose bed did you end up in?” he asked Roger as he wandered in yawning.

Roger grinned. “That’d be telling,” he laughed. “I can tell you I’ve worked up an appetite, though,” he said. 

He looked up as Freddie entered the breakfast room. Freddie was beautiful, he thought. Freddie looked very much at home in the elegant rooms of the house. Freddie was glamorous enough for the setting, Roger thought – he seemed to belong in a way that the actual owner Sebastian didn’t. 

“Good morning,” he greeted Freddie. He thought about what Mr Beach had said earlier. He also thought that he didn’t feel very capable of making the first move either. 

Freddie smiled. “It looks like it’s going to be another lovely day,” he remarked. 

*

Sometimes the people passing through the house brought various illegal substances and Sebastian had a very well stocked wine cellar and drinks cabinet. After dinner everyone usually ended up in the smoking room and the night before had been no exception. 

Freddie marvelled at being somewhere that had a smoking room. He had mentioned this to Roger who had laughed and said that it must be nice to be rich enough to be able to set aside both time and space to indulge in the things that gave you pleasure. 

Mr Beach had told Freddie that the smoking room was panelled with a certain type of wood – Freddie couldn’t remember what it was now – that absorbed smoke. Freddie was amazed anyone would think of such a thing. This was truly a whole other world. 

It had been a while since anyone had supplied drugs of any sort but they had all been drinking and as he entered the breakfast room the following morning Freddie had a pounding head and felt slightly queasy. He poured himself some coffee and sat next to Roger.

“Not up to food yet?” Roger asked sympathetically. 

Freddie smiled. “I should have left when you did,” he remarked. 

“I’d like to know who you ended up with,” John said. 

Roger laughed. “You don’t give up, do you John? I’m not going to kiss and tell.”

“Since your bed hadn’t been slept in this morning I assume you did more than kiss,” John noted. 

“You’ll give Freddie the wrong impression of me,” Roger pouted. 

John snorted. “Roger is an enthusiastic advocate of free love,” he told Freddie.

“I prefer to think I’m going with the flow,” Roger said, “and I can’t help it if I sometimes flow into people’s beds.” He winked at Freddie. 

*

The following morning Roger awakened as Dominique padded out of the bedroom. She paused at the door, saw him looking and blew him a kiss. Next to Roger, Crystal grunted and pulled Roger against him. “You all right, goldilocks?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Roger snuggled against Crystal who didn’t seem to be going anywhere. He thought this was Crystal’s room which probably explained why Crystal wasn’t going anywhere. Roger trailed his fingers down the side of Crystal’s face stroking his soft beard.

“Does that please you, goldilocks?” Crystal asked sounding amused. 

“It’s very pirate,” Roger told him drowsily, “Or very self-sufficient loner living in the woods. It makes you look competent. Also, it feels delightful when you’re using your mouth in certain ways.”

Crystal laughed. “Delightful, is it?” He kissed Roger who suddenly felt more awake. “Well, now I’ve got you all to myself perhaps we should explore all the ways it delights you...” 

*

“Who did you end up with last night?” John wondered, as Roger entered the breakfast room. 

Crystal was right behind Roger. He grinned and said, “Ooh, have you been a naughty boy, Rog?”

“Very,” Roger laughed, fixing himself a mug of tea.

“Brian’s already in the pool,” John told Roger. 

“He’d live in the pool if he could,” Roger pointed out. “I think he’s secretly a merman.”

“It’s going to be hot again,” Crystal noted, “so a day in and out of the pool sounds just the ticket.”

*

Everyone did indeed gather by the pool. Roger selected the sun lounger next to Freddie’s. “I don’t suppose you could put sun cream on my back could you?” he asked. “I’d be ever so grateful. I burn so easily.”

Freddie nodded. “Uh...Of course...”

“Perhaps...” Roger hesitated. Would Freddie think this a step too far? “Would you be able to braid my hair so it’s out of the way?” he wondered. 

He had slept again, snuggled against Crystal. When he had awakened again, still wrapped around Crystal, Crystal had kissed him and told him drowsily that he thought Freddie liked him. “He seems quite shy, though. You might have to take matters into your own hands there.”

Now, as Freddie stammered that of course he would braid Roger’s hair Roger wondered idly if all the people he slept with were intent on making sure he never darkened their beds again and were dangling another prospective bed-mate in front of him to make sure of it. Was it because he was insufferable or was it because they genuinely thought Freddie – who could surely have anyone he wanted – really liked Roger?

He thanked Freddie. “My hair always comes loose immediately when Brian does it and John doesn’t have the patience,” he said. 

John looked amused. “You little liar – I do your hair all the time!” 

“You huff about it, though,” Roger told him.

“I do not huff,” John huffed. He studied them for a moment. “I’m going for a swim,” he said.

*

Freddie deftly braided Roger’s silky hair, still slightly wet from his morning shower. “Have you known John and Brian long?” he asked. 

“Too long!” Roger laughed. “I met them at college. I was in a band with Brian – he’s a brilliant guitarist – but our bass player and lead singer went on a retreat and never returned. John plays bass and we’re trying to get something else together but we need a lead singer.” He shrugged. “I guess it will all work itself out.”

Freddie considered telling Roger that he liked to sing but he was worried that might look too keen. He tied Roger’s hair and flipped the braid over his shoulder. “There, I’ll just put your sun cream on now.”

The sun cream was cold on Freddie’s fingers. Roger’s back felt warm and smooth. Freddie spread cream across his back. Was he being too slow? Would Roger realise he was savouring this moment when he was allowed to touch? He was grateful that he had draped a towel over his lap to catch any drips – it was also covering his erection.

He realised Roger was asking him something. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Roger had been asking how Freddie had arrived here. He explained about Mary. “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a fraud,” he confessed, “I’m not really a hippy.”

Roger laughed, “Neither is Sebastian, I think! I’m not sure anyone here has deeply rooted beliefs. I just wanted a bit of fun before I go back to college – to my real life. I’m probably about as shallow as it gets.”

“No,” Freddie shook his head, “You were moved by your experience in the drum circle,” he pointed out. “And you’re...Well, you seem to be to be a very positive person.”

“Thank you,” Roger said, “And I think you are a very thoughtful and gentle person,” he added, “so you seem to be embodying an ideal some people are trying to reach.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Freddie blushed. He leaned forward so his lips were tantalisingly close to Roger’s ear. “I’m not always gentle,” he informed him hoarsely. 

Roger gave an appreciative hum. “Aren’t you, now?” He swivelled around awkwardly so he could see Freddie. “I’d like to see that side of you,” he murmured. 

Freddie blushed. He glanced away from Roger towards the pool and tried to think of an appropriate response. Had he understood Roger correctly? Roger had been with someone on both nights since he was at the house. “I expect the lucky person you’ve fallen for has hidden sides to them,” he muttered. 

“Oh!” Roger sounded surprised, “Oh, no...” he began but at that moment Brian appeared before them, dripping wet, shaking water from his hair and asking Roger to pass him a towel and the moment was lost. 

*

There were too many damn people at the house, Roger thought moodily. He hadn’t managed to catch Freddie alone all day.

Now, with dinner over he followed everyone to the smoking room. Perhaps he could steal a few minutes alone with Freddie here. 

There were large cushions and bean-bags scattered incongruously between the dark heavy antique furniture of the smoking room. Roger was handed a cocktail – he wasn’t entirely sure what it was – and debated where to sit. He decided to move over the window-seat and curled up there. This choice of seat meant he was slightly apart from everyone else but also left space for someone to come and sit next to him. 

He was slightly put out when the first someone to sit next to him was Sebastian. “You know,” Sebastian declared in his braying voice, “I thought you were a girl when I first saw you!” 

Roger forced himself to smile at their host. “That happens sometimes,” he agreed. 

“Perhaps you should grow a beard like our friend Crystal!” Sebastian suggested. 

“Perhaps I should,” Roger nodded, taking a slug of his cocktail. It was strong. He was glad. He thought he might need it. 

*

Roger looked as if he needed to be rescued, Freddie thought. He glanced at John. “So, you and Sebastian are cousins?” he asked, wondering how two such different people could be related. 

“I think we’re actually second cousins,” John said, also looking towards Roger. "Our mothers are cousins. We used to come and visit quite often,” he said. “A cheap holiday,” he grinned, “since we’re the poor relations!” He sighed. “I suppose I’d better rescue Rog.”

“I’ll go,” Freddie offered, standing up. He thought John was giving him a knowing look and wondered if he was very obvious.

He wandered over to the window, feeling horribly conspicuous. The window was slightly open and he could feel a warm breeze. “It’s such a lovely night,” he noted.

“We should go back to the pool,” Roger laughed. 

“Oh yes!” Dominique enthused. 

Roger wasn’t sure afterwards who the first person running out of the room whooping and starting to shed their clothes as they ran down the hallway was but he thought it might have been Brian which was slightly unexpected. Unless he really was a merman in which case perhaps it was entirely to be expected. 

Whoever started it everyone quickly joined in – a kind of collective spontaneity Roger wholeheartedly approved of and also found slightly astonishing. Freddie remained, however. Their eyes met. Someone yelled, “Come on you two!” which they ignored. 

Roger stood up and closed the gap between them. “May I kiss you?” he whispered. Freddie nodded and he pressed his lips to Freddie’s. Freddie tasted of strawberries and wine. “You’re divine,” Roger breathed as they parted.

“No,” Freddie disagreed, “you are.”

*

“There was no need to allocate you a room, really, was there Roggie?” John smirked when Roger entered the breakfast room the next morning followed by Freddie. “You haven’t spent a single night in your own bed since we arrived, have you?”

“He can’t help it if everyone wants him, dear,” Freddie responded lightly. He was glad there was no one else in the room as he was fairly sure that John had worked out whose bed Roger had been in. The thought of Roger in his bed gave him a little warm glow inside. 

“That’s rich coming from you, anyway,” Roger noted, “because I believe you’ve been sharing Brian’s bed every night since we arrived, haven’t you?

John flushed bright red, spluttering, “How...? Who...?”

“I know I don’t have the best eyesight in the world,” Roger said, “but I’m not completely blind.” He grinned. “I’m glad you two finally got your act together!” 

John grunted. “His first love is the pool,” he muttered but Freddie thought he looked happy.

He wondered if he was just a notch on Roger’s bed-post and if Roger would move on as he had moved on from the other people he had slept with. They had not discussed it. They had not really discussed anything. Free love, John had said – love with no ties – no commitment. Still, their one night had been glorious.

*

Roger asked Freddie if he would like to go for a walk down by the lake. He felt slightly nervous which seemed silly after the night before but he was concerned that Freddie might think he was being clingy. He was delighted when Freddie said yes.

There was a little rowing boat down by the lake and they took it out on the water. They lay on the bottom of the boat, their hands exploring each other’s bodies. “I thought you might have tired of me,” Freddie murmured. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of you,” Roger replied. Then he worried that was too much – too much – too soon.

“Good,” Freddie said decisively, kissing him possessively. “I don’t want to have to share you,” he added firmly. 

“I’m all yours,” Roger breathed.

*

Most of the garden consisted of regimented flower-beds tended to by a team of gardeners but there was an area where wildflowers were allowed to flourish near the lake. Roger and Freddie lay there in the sunshine, weaving flowers together making flower crowns to adorn each other’s heads and braiding flowers into each other’s hair. 

“There,” Roger murmured, “we’re both proper hippies now!”

Freddie could not recall the last time he had felt so relaxed with anyone. He could not think of anyone he felt he belonged with as he felt he belonged with Roger. The feelings threatened to overwhelm him so he suggested going for a swim. A distraction – a way of avoiding acknowledging or thinking about how dangerously quickly and deeply he had fallen in love. 

*

There was a storm that night. Roger and Freddie watched from Freddie’s bedroom window as rain poured down, lightning arced across the sky and thunder roared.

The next morning, as if blown in by the storm, Sebastian’s sister arrived home and declared that she would like her home to herself. Sebastian made a feeble attempt to get her to allow his guests to stay but they could all tell their strange time out from their real lives had come to an end and after breakfast they all packed their bags.

Freddie was given a lift back to London with Brian, John and Roger in the battered mini. The noise and bustle of London felt odd after the spacious surroundings of the mansion. Freddie felt as if the tall London buildings were closing in on him. His real life was closing in on him, tightening like a vice.

Roger gave him a kiss as they dropped him off at his parent’s house. They had arranged to meet the following evening and as he waved to Roger as the car drove off Freddie thought that perhaps his real life – with Roger in it – was not too bad, after all.


End file.
